Being Christine
by Secret Night Owl
Summary: Would the story of the "Phantom of the Opera" be the same if Christine's personality was a wee bit different? I don't think so...
1. Chapter 1

**Hey ya'll! I got this idea while spending the night at Lauren's (Songbird of Night) house: What if **_**I **_**were Christine? Not very original, but I'm gonna write it anyway. :P You can bet things will be a wee bit different...**

_**Being Christine: Chapter One**_

"One, two, _three. _ One, two, _three._"

Though it was a given fact that Aunt Annie had been instructing the ballet for years, I was sure the music was going _One, _two, three; therefore I was very off with the dance steps. I looked atrocious, and about as coordinated as a one-legged elephant in pointe shoes. But then, again, I _am _about as coordinated as a one-legged elephant in pointe shoes.

_Stupid dance steps, _I thought. _Stupid music. _

But that was a lie. I thought the music was lovely and so well compos-"Christine!"

There went that happy thought.

Aunt Annie's tone of voice told me I was in trouble. Again. I walked away from the other dancers and towards where she was standing at the far end of the stage.

"Christine," she began, and, from the look in her eye, a look of disappointment, I could tell that I was about to hear some bad news, "You are not progressing very well in ballet."

_Duh._

"If your dancing does not improve, I'm afraid this may be your last opera."

I was a little more than startled. "What? Aunt Annie, I have to stay! I've nowhere else to go. I promise I'll approve, I truly do. I can't leave!"

"And I would never want you to, so please keep that promise."

"I will."

As Aunt Annie walked away, I let out the breath of air I didn't know I was holding. I wasn't so worried about losing dance. I was much more worried about losing something much more important...

~o~

"From-a our saviors, from-a our SA-A-A-A-aviors-ah!"

_Kill. Me. NOW, _I thought to myself as our Prima Donna, Carlotta, _graced, _the stage.

"Brava, brava," I heard her minions call out her.

_Brava my butt! _So many people would be offended if they knew what I truly though of them. But most people didn't know I existed. I had always kept to myself, finding that it was easier to live in the opera when remaining out of its ranks.

"...who now own the Opera Populaire."

_What?_

"Christine." I turned around to see my best friend Meg standing behind me.

"What's going on? I kind of zoned out..." Meg knew I couldn't pay attention to anything very long. There is just always something more interesting in my head.

"Two new people own the Opera, Christine."

I wasted a moment of my day-dreaming time to think this information over. "Two newbies were dumb enough to buy the Opera?"

"Apparently."

"Give it five months, and, trust me, they'll be high-tailing it out of here. They'll sell the place before half the year is out."

"Unless there's no one dumb enough to buy it from them."

We both laughed, then, in our randomness, changed the subject completely and started discussing the latest gossip about one of the dancers, who may or may not, be pregnant with one of the scene-changers. Then we talked about the horrendous altos' costumes. Then we talked about the most important stuff: what was being served for lunch.

"...the Viscount de Chagny."

Huh?

"Raoul?" I spoke my thought softly as I worked my way to the front of the crowd that was gathered for something I only partially knew about with Meg behind me.

"It's Raoul," I said, this time not to myself, but to Meg.

Meg looked shocked. "How do you know him? And how the heck are you on a first-name bases with the Viscount?"

I smiled as a flash-back to the first time I met Raoul began to play in my mind. I was with Father on the beach in Calais. My red scarf, a last gift from my mother, blew away from me on the wind, and was whisked out to the sea. I couldn't swim, so I was sure that was the last time I'd ever wear it. I had turned to leave with tears in my eyes when I heard splashing behind me. A boy a bit older than my age, which was six at the time, was swimming out to save my scarf. When he swam back to the shore, I realized he was one of the Counts' sons. I had seen him a few times before, most of the time in carriages heading to important dinners and galas that I'd never see. I didn't know anything about him until returned my scarf and introduced himself. I introduced myself and thanked him, letting him know how much it meant to me. From then, we were friends until I came to live at opera. I had never seen him after that.

I assumed I'd had a dumb look on my face, since when I snapped back to reality; Meg was staring at me with a confused look on her face.

"Fine then, Christine, don't answer me."

~o~

Of course, Raoul walked right past me without a second glance. Just my luck. But, then again, that was to be expected. How was he supposed to remember someone when the last time he saw them, they were seven? So I went back to Lala Land until disaster struck.

Carlotta was pitching a fit, which is nothing new, then randomly started screechin-I mean, _singing. _Well, it might not have been random, but I usually tune Carlotta out of my head, so it was random for me.

"_When you find, that once again you long, to take your heart back and be free, if you ever find a moment, spare a-_AH!"

The scream brought me back down to Earth, and I turned around to see the scrim on top of our Prima Donna.

_How in the world did I not notice that? _I must have been getting good at tuning out all things Carlotta.

"Until-a you stop-a these this from 'appening, this thing does-a not 'appen!" And with that, our one and only lead soprano left. _What did Meg say lunch was again?_

I was running off to find her when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Christine Daae could sing it sir."

_WHAT?_

"She has been trained by a great teacher."

_How did she know about THAT?_

"By who."

I knew would sound stupid saying, _the Angel of Music,_ so I said the next best thing.

"Don't know his name, monsieur."

I still sounded stupid

"Let her sing for you monsieur. She has been well taught."

My heartbeat drowned out the next bit of conversing but as soon as the music began I was miraculously able to sing.

I sang for a full-house that night. As I took my bows, I realized that I might become the new Prima Donna.

_In your face Craplotta!_

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Not too, too different in this chapter, but soon there should be some big changes. I know it's not very long, but the chapters will be shorter so I can update more frequently when school starts back. Please review! **

**PS: I'm always open to ideas, so just send me a quick pm or leave your ideas in the comments. I'll be sure to let everyone know whose ideas I used. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey ya'll! I know the last chapter was the King—Kong of bad grammar, but give me some credit because I wrote it at two in the morning on a sleepless night. At least it was legible! Here are the reviews I love so much!**

**Nightbird1995: Thanks! I hope the next chapters will be up to par. :)**

**Vanessa Osbourne: GRAMMAR NAZI! Just kidding, it's just Mrs. Droop. Thank you, thank you. I had actually written "Carlotta" but changed it after reading it over. Yep, I read it over and it still looks like it was written by a first grader. :P And yes, my friend, he will be. *evil laugh***

**EriksNewLove: I was overjoyed when I read your review. I was hoping Christine would become more relatable. It makes me feel great when I get reviews like this. :)**

**Songbird of Night: Really? Who? I is confused. XD OOOooh, never mind. XD Yay! **

**RoseTheFanFictionLover: Thanks! I'm glad that I finally put something out, I was being slack!**

**Thanks Queen of Drama13 and Laura in the Sky with Diamonds, along with many others, for put my story on Story Alert!**

_**Being Christine: Chapter Two**_

Aunt Annie walked into my dressing room and smiled at me. She picked up a rose from the table that I already knew was there and handed it to me.

Yes, there were, like, a bazillion flowers in the room, but that rose was the first one I noticed. Unlike the pink and yellow roses covering almost every surface of the room, this rose was blood red, and tied to the stem was a black satin ribbon. I ran my finger over the silky fabric of the ribbon, then over the top of the dark petals. This single flower entranced me.

"He is pleased with you."

For some reason, Aunt Annie always knew everything about my Angel. It was weird. But I didn't question it, because something told me she was, also, always right.

She left quickly, and I sat down at my vanity more than happy to start getting the itching barrettes out of my hair. I tried to work them slowly out of the knots that had wound around them, but got impatient, and then ripped them out along with some of my hair.

~o~

I was silently cursing the barrettes when the door creaked open. "Little Lotte let her mind wander."

Raoul. He did remember me! And he was still picking on me about my short attention span.

"Raoul. I was beginning to think you didn't remember me."

He looked incredulously at me before grasping my hands in his. _One mental squeal of glee._

"I could never forget my darling Lotte. What would make you think I could?"

I cocked an eyebrow before giving my reply. "Oh, I don't know...maybe it was because, mere hours ago, you were so close your jacket brushed against me and you didn't give me one glance."

"What?" The shock was evident on his face.

"Mm hm." I looked him straight in the eyes. I decided to guilt him. "It was," I took a deep breath for a dramatic effect, "_sooo,_ hard to believe that my wonderful best friend had forgotten about me." I gave him the puppy—dog eyes.

"Oh, sweet Christine, I'm so sorry, that was just my inobservance." He pulled me into a long hug that gave me time to take a deep breath of his cologne._ Two mental squeals of glee._ "And now," he said as we drew apart, "we go to supper." _Three mental squeals of glee! _

_Me and Raoul out to supper? Yes, yes, ye—wait, no._

"I—can't."

"Of course you ca—"

I interrupted him. "No, I really can't. I wished I could but..." I trailed off, but when I looked back at Raoul's face I could tell he wanted an explanation.

I sighed. "Raoul, when Father died he promised to send me an angel, to guard me and to guide me. An Angel of Music."

Raoul went to speak, but put a finger over his mouth to silence him. I already knew that he was going to give me some smart—mouth, sarcastic comment. That was just how he was.

"My Angel is very strict, he—"

"I won't keep you out late," he said with a laugh. "Don't say no."

I thought my options over, and peer—pressure won out.

"Okay."

"Three minutes?"

"Five."

"Four?"

I giggled at his eagerness. "Fine. It's your fault if I look like a mess, because you made me rush."

He laughed again before leaving to order the carriage. My mental squeal of glee turned into an actual squeal of glee as I ran to change.

_Which outfit is the most tantalizing? _I stood in front of my dresser looking through all of my clothes.

~o~

I finished dressing and was coming around the changing screen when the candles suddenly blew out all by themselves.

_The opera house is a bit drafty,_ I told myself, _I'm sure they just were blown out by a breeze...that I didn't feel._

There was still something amiss. Despair suddenly came over me, and I darted towards the door. But it wouldn't open. I pressed against it, pushed and pulled, and shook the doorknob to no avail.

"Open, open!" I knew yelling at the door would do absolutely nothing to help me, it wasn't going to listen.

"Insolent boy!" There great voice voice immediately stunned me, causing my to stand there staring at the door like an idiot.

"Christine. Christine!"

"Huh?" Crap, I'd zoned again. What was I even think about that time? I didn't remember...

"Christine..."

"I'm sorry Angel...this isn't what it looks like..." _It looks like your busted,_ thought to myself. "I just...oh, I'm so sorry Angel! I am still truly devoted to music. Stay with me."

"Come to the mirror."

I walked towards to mirror and what I saw as I neared it left me stunned. There in the mirror stood the source of my voice and of my Angel's voice...but he was a man.

"I am your Angel of Music."

He held out his hand to me and I—stopped dead in my tracks. "Hey, where did the mirror go?"

I guess I ruined his dramatic entrance.

I swear I heard him sigh, but he once again held out his hand to me. This time, I took it.

**What did you think? ** **Please review; you know how much I love reviews!**


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